My head pounds and I can barely keep my eyes open. I look at my watch; it’s three in the afternoon.

I try to take my mind off of my insatiable yearnings to have a drink. I stare at the blurry pages of a book and scroll through the endless Mobius strip of Facebook.

Nothing works. Embedded within everything are constant reminders of which we cannot imbibe.

I go for a walk. I live in Seattle, and it’s everywhere. I give in. I step into a Starbucks and order a Venti. I’ll try quitting again tomorrow.

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